Must-Reads

Carmine’s, an import from New York City, is a study in excess. The space is 20,000 square feet, with room for 700 diners, including nine private rooms. The menus are like billboards, posted on the walls and advertising red-sauce staples such as lasagna, garlic bread, and veal saltimbocca. It’s reminiscent of a 1920s Italian restaurant merged with a theme park—there’s even a souvenir stand up front stocked with Carmine’s T-shirts and baseball caps.

In the dining rooms, decorated with black-and-white photos in mismatched frames, portions are mammoth and meant for sharing: A side of eggplant Parmesan is the size of a shoebox; lobster fra diavolo comes in a trough so big that servers carry it with both arms. And when a recipe calls for garlic, there’s a blizzard of it. That works with an appetizer of baked clams but renders a main course of shrimp scampi very one-note.

The old-family-recipe formula translates well in a platter of crisp fried calamari with spicy marinara and spaghetti with big, peppery meatballs. Pasta is also tasty in a heap of rigatoni with white beans, sausage, and a pork-based sauce. A slab of raisin-studded bread pudding with a healthy dollop of whipped cream is a good bet, too.

At a time when small plates, local purveyors, and haute comfort food are trendy, there’s nothing refined or precious about Carmine’s—but that’s okay when it comes to spaghetti and meatballs.